


it should be laughter, not poison

by mitch23k



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M, everyone is gay but garlan i guess, leonette continues to be the nicest woman in westoros, margaery is also a lez it was barely mentioned but ill expand upon in future fics, poor loras, poor maraery too but she's mostly chill with everything, poor renly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 04:51:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19041487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitch23k/pseuds/mitch23k
Summary: Loras suffers through Margaery and Renly's wedding night.





	it should be laughter, not poison

Men all throughout the encampment proclaimed it the finest wedding they’d ever seen, with the bride more lovely than any maid in Westeros, the king as gallant and handsome as the late King Robert had been on his wedding day. When Renly turned to the gathered masses and proclaimed Margaery Tyrell the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the queen of his heart before pressing a strangely light kiss to her mouth, women sighed. His countrymen cheered.

Loras, however, was far from pleased. 

He’d been prepared for this. By Olenna, who warned him to keep on a happy face during the ceremony; by Mace, who thought it might be best if he say he’s tired halfway through the feast; by Garlan and Willas, who both suggested he drink deeply that night; even by Margaery, the blushing bride, who reminded him as he escorted her to the sept. 

_ “Remember, big brother,”  _ she had murmured.  _ “He has to have the bedding, not you. Don’t feel set aside. I’m sure Renly is going through his own troubles.” _

Yes, Loras had assured everyone. I’ll be fine. 

And now he was sweating through his armor in the dining hall provided by Lord something-or-another, pretending to enjoy the salty soup placed before him as the eighth course. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the happy couple. Renly’s ever-present grin was cheerful yet Loras knew how to read him: his eyes were empty and tired. He would kiss Marg on the cheek every few minutes, and she would smile shyly. They held hands atop the table. Other than that, they didn’t do much. Renly barely touched his food, but drank deep. His crown of antlers and roses glinted in the candlelight, and Margaery’s shone even brighter. Once, or twice, Renly looked over where Loras was, a few seats away on the dais as was befitting the brother of the queen, but always looked away before Loras could catch his gaze. He never looked Loras in the eye. 

Loras had dreamed of a big wedding once. He can remember laying in the grass in the rose gardens back home with Margaery, discussing the green and gold brocade on the clothes, the pears poached in wine and the applecakes served with heavy cream, what songs would be sung, and such. But a member of the rainbow guard could not marry. Margaery, however, was currently dining on her applecakes with a pleased expression.

Loras knew he shouldn't be jealous. He was sure Margaery wasn’t looking forward to the bedding either. Everyone in the family knew Loras and Margaery shared the same feelings for the respective same-sex. Margaery wanted to be queen, but that didn’t mean she wanted to sleep with a man, especially one that had fucked her brother, Loras was sure. This was not Margaery’s fault, and even if it had been, it was still an excellent plan. Everyone agreed, even Loras. So why did he feel like throwing his bowl at the wall?

“Here.” Loras looked up as Garlan placed a flagon of Rhenish before him. “I presume you’ll make use of it, little brother.” He patted Loras on the shoulder and sat beside him.

“Thank you,” Loras said, his voice dry and cracked as if he hadn’t used it in years. He poured himself a cup and finished it off before turning back to his brother. “Enjoying the festivities?” 

Garlan snorted, bringing a weak smile to Loras’s face. “How Father can afford this confuses me. Lady Leonette and I’s ceremony was not half as elegant. I’m sure you recall.”

He nodded. He’d been given leave from Renly to attend. In the weeks before, he’d boasted of his elder brother and of Highgarden’s beauty to the point where Renly decided he must come and see it himself. He’d written ahead to be courteous, of course, but Lord Mace Tyrell could hardly refuse. Renly had been the king’s brother, it was a great honor. Loras and Renly had stepped into the Great Hall to see his family, and Loras had only hesitated a second before running and leaping into Garlan’s waiting arms. He blushed afterwards, wondering what Renly would think of him, but later, his lord had privately confided he was touched by Loras’ love for his family. Neither of his brothers would ever show such devotion to him, he claimed. After meeting King Robert and Lord Stannis a few years later at a tourney, Loras agreed. 

“I remember you tripping over Margaery’s feet as you danced to The Bear and the Maiden Fair,” Loras laughed. He poured himself another cup but sipped this time. “Willas nearly choked on his pigeon pie, he was laughing so hard. She didn’t even come up to your chest, you both looked ridiculous.” 

“Yes, and you and our lady mother looked oh so esteemed. You were blushing.”

Loras rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “It was quite embarrassing for a thirteen-year old squire to dance with his mother in front of his lord. I find that apt cause to blush, don’t you?”

Garlan chuckled. “I wouldn’t have, when I was a squire. But the friendship I had with my lord didn’t have the same depth as the one you share with our king.”

Garlan wasn’t supposed to talk like that, but Loras didn’t particularly care right then. The rest of the men of the encampment were five feet below them, and deep in their cups. No one was listening. He drained another cup, feeling like Robert Baratheon - before being speared by the boar, mind you, but drunk all the same. 

“It’ll be okay, Loras. You know none of it’s real,” he murmured. 

Loras nodded sharply. Renly had said as much last night, in one of the cavernous rooms offered to the camp for the ceremony. He’d whispered it in Loras’s ear after kissing nearly every inch of skin on his body. “It still hurts.”

“I know. My lady is saddened for you. I warn you, she’s planning on giving you a new broach she’s fashioned herself when we return to Highgarden.”

Loras forced a smile. His brother was trying. “You warn me?”

“I’m afraid Leonette is not very accustomed to metalwork. It doesn’t look much like a rose at all. Maybe like...a very interesting tree.”

Lovely. Leonette was forever making little trinkets or favors for her good-family. Margaery and his lady mother Alerie thought her ever so sweet, and Willas considered her a true sister. Loras had only met her a scant few times, but she seemed a kind woman, and Garlan was obviously enraptured with her. “Thank her for her concerns, Garlan,” Loras said with a glint of a smile. “My good-sister is ever so kind.”

Garlan looked like he had a clever response to that, but just then Ser Robar Royce, The Red of Renly’s splendid Rainbow Guard, stood and raised his goblet. There’d already been speech after speech in the royals honor, but it seemed he had another toast to make. 

Ser Robar stood atop his chair and swayed, obviously drunk. He looked to his king. “Time for the bedding!” he announced, as if he had any right. 

Loras glanced at Renly, who had gone pale but was still smiling. Renly stood and raised his cup in response, and allowed the assumption. “Time indeed!” he declared, and promptly downed the rest of his wine. Loras did likewise, standing and leaving Garlan with a frown. A few feet away, the singers and their accompaniments began the traditional bedding song, The Queen Took off Her Sandal, The King Took Off His Crown.

The serving women and the few highborn women that had traveled to the castle crowded Renly. They tore at his lovely green doublet, all the while making crass jokes.  _ He’s your king,  _ Loras thought bitterly. They shouldn’t have their hands on him. King Robert might have welcomed the attention, but Robert didn’t have a Tyrell lover with a temper. 

“Ooh, he  _ must  _ be a Baratheon,” he heard one of the ladies hoot as they undressed him. Loras grit his teeth and strode forward, ignoring everything but the task at hand. Men, some of them his new sworn brothers, had surrounded his sister. She had her charming smirk upon her lips, and only one had dared touch her yet. He’d only pulled slightly on her sleeve, but Loras pushed his aside all the same and lifted Margaery into his arms. 

It hadn’t been part of the plan, but Margaery seemed somewhat relieved. “Ah, my brave brother is here, my lords,” she teased. “Are you my honor guard, Loras?”

“Now and always,” Loras replied, and turned. As he strode away, the men groaned and complained, but Loras heard none of it. Margaery was smiling up at him. 

“They’ll be upset about that,” she intoned, Loras shrugged, hefting her into a more comfortable position, as if he were holding a child. 

“I don’t care.”

“Father will be upset.”

“I don’t care.”

“Grandmother will say it was stupid.”

“Grandmother says everything I do is stupid.”

“Well then,” Margaery asked, faux incredulously, “Have you considered becoming smart?”

Loras laughed truly for what felt like the first time in years. “I’ll consider it,” he said, taking the steps carefully. “Enjoying your wedding?”

“I would have liked to finish my roast swan,” Margaery said thoughtfully. She brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Other than that, lovely. You?”

“I’ve been better,” Loras said bit sourly, then scolded himself in his mind. It wasn’t Margaery’s fault, he reminded himself. “The food was good.”

“You seemed to enjoy your wine.” Margaery noted. A lesser man might have taken that for a slight, but Margaery was just an observant girl. 

“I won’t drop you, if that’s your concern.”

“You’d never drop me,” Margaery said simply, but she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck for safety just to annoy him. “I’m sorry about this, Loras.”

The knight of flowers grunted. “There’s nothing to be done. He’s the one that has to do the bedding anyway,” he said, but the hint of pain in his voice was obvious. She reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek to be sweet. 

They reached the hallway that led to the marriage bed, and there five women waited. Renly must’ve already been waiting inside. Custom had a crowd stand behind the door and cheer the couple as the consummated, but there was usually an exception when asked. 

Loras put his sister down. “Fair ladies, if you would leave my sister to our King…”

They grumbled a bit, but two of them were low-born serving wenches, and immediately bowed their heads and led the others off. Loras opened the door for Margaery, who swept in like a queen should. He closed the door, and debated his options. He could stand vigil, make sure no stragglers came to try and catch a glimpse of the royal consummation, or he could leave, and spare himself the torture of listening. He was prepared to take the first option, but when he heard Renly’s voice, slurred with wine and deep, murmur,  _ “Ah, Lady Margaery…”  _ Loras couldn’t help himself. He called himself a coward, but strode down the hall as quickly as his legs would take him.

He rammed his shoulder into a wall while turning, an unfortunate reminder of the wine he had consumed earlier. He’d never been good with wine, but he hadn’t expected to be drunk so easily. As if by magic, he happened upon a leftover flagon in the hands of a passing servant girl, who took one look at him and handed it over. Whatever expression he had one convinced her well, and she took her leave of him quickly. Just there, in the hallway, Loras allowed himself to sit and drink himself to sleep.

It didn’t feel like much longer that he was being shaken awake. Loras blinked bearily, trying to get his bearings. His head felt on fire, and his skin felt too tight. He looked up into the eyes of Renly Baratheon.

Renly was in a new doublet, gold with green detailing, and his crown was on his brow. He smiled his easy smile. “Ser Loras, how are you this morn?”

Loras swallowed the bile growing in his throat and stared at a patch of wall to keep steady. When he finally had his fortitude, he met Renly’s eye and slurred, “Good, my king.”

Renly laughed. He showed no sign of the previous night’s drunkenness, despite the fact that he’d definitely had more wine than Loras. He grasped Loras’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “You’re lucky I found you first. I’m sure Ser Robar would delight in the opportunity to mock his young Lord Commander.” Loras had to smile at that, despite the dizziness standing caused him. When Renly had announced a seventeen year old would lead the Rainbow Guard, there was nearly a riot. Of course, respect for the king had won over in the end, but their army was full of ambitious men, and Loras knew quite a few of them wouldn’t mind if he was knocked from his horse by Stannis. 

Loras had been supremely honored by being named Lord Commander, though. If that had been planned with his lord father, no one had told him. More like Renly had thought it up himself. Renly had presented him with his new cloak before the whole force, and had draped it over his shoulders as if they’d been getting married themselves…

“Loras?” Renly dared to cup his cheek, though he did look around first to make sure they were alone. “Are you alright? How much did you drink?”

The last was a weak attempt at a jape, Loras could tell by his tone, but he pulled away all the same. “I’m fine. Why don’t you go check on my sister? I hear the first time can be especially difficult for young women.”  _ It’s not Margaery’s fault, it’s not Margaery’s fault, it’s not Renly’s fault… _

Hurt flashed across Renly’s face. “Loras, we-”

“Just- just don’t, Renly, okay? I know you didn’t want it and I know you were dreading it but it still hurts, okay? I’m supposed to sit and watch women strip you down when I can’t touch you unless we’re behind barred doors! I’m supposed to watch you kiss  _ my sister  _ and name her your wife and not feel the slightest bit jealous? It’s too much and I can’t-”

“Loras-”

“It’s too hard, I can’t-”

“Loras! We didn’t do anything!”

Renly whipped his head around, double and triple checking. Then leaned in. “We didn’t even touch,” Renly mumbled. “She undressed but I...I couldn’t. I told her I’d drunk too much wine and that we’d try another time. I wrapped a blanket around her and made sure we didn’t even graze each other as we slept. I know I should’ve tried harder, but I just...just kept thinking of you. And I couldn’t.”

Loras was struck dumb, staring duly at his king’s fallen look. He looked ashamed. Lloras reached out and gripped the back of his neck, pulled him in, and kissed him, deep. 

“Not here,” Renly whispered against Loras’s lips, then pulled away. He was blushing, which brought Loras a good amount of joy. “I have court.”

“Your Lord Commander should be there as well,” Loras said, letting his fingers card through Renly’s thick black locks. Renly shivered. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed.”

Renly sniffed. “And maybe bathe. You smell like wine.”

Loras smiled, then grew serious. “Ren…”

He understood at once. “It’s no trouble, Ser Loras,” he said loudly for the benefit of anyone nearby. “Your sister is a lovely woman. Anything for my love.”

He wasn’t talking about Marg there at the end, Loras knew. “Of course, Your Grace.” Loras bowed. “I’ll take my leave to freshen up.”

Loras swept away but Renly stopped him. “And, Lord Commander?”

“Yes?”

“Tonight, we’ll have to pray together to the mother for my future heir,” Renly insisted. 

_ Pray together.  _

“Of course, my king.”

**Author's Note:**

> anyway all three of these gays deserved better! fuck d&d!!!!!!
> 
> this ending is kind of shit but i couldn't quite think of anything else so shrug
> 
> taking a break from dc stuff for awhile (even though i already have for like six months lol sorry) bc the season finale irritated me so much ive been rereading the books and have caught a bit of asoiaf inspiration


End file.
